Hiraeth
by ashestodusters
Summary: Hiraeth (n) a homesickness for a home you cannot return to, or that never was. Saavik is seventeen and in her first year at Starfleet Academy when it happens. Her katra shivers, her mind is overwhelmed with the screams of a lost people. She feels the moment familial bonds are broken, like someone had pushed a telepathic knife into her mind and twisted. It hurts.


Saavik is seventeen and in her first year at Starfleet Academy when it happens.

Her katra shivers, her mind is overwhelmed with the screams of a lost people.

She feels the moment familial bonds are broken, like someone had pushed a telepathic knife into her mind and _twisted_.

It _hurts_.

Later she will be told how classmates had watched, confused and alarmed, as the half-Vulcan amongst them fell to her knees, clutching her temples, green blood leaking from her pointed ears, begging in Vuhlkansu for the pain to stop.

She awakes in hospital two days later with a blinding headache and a gaping hole in her mind where the background telepathic noise of her people had once sat.

At regular intervals nurse comes in with a compassionate expression.

"I am sorry for your loss."

Vulcan is gone; with it nearly all of its billions of inhabitants. Saavik does not need to watch the news on the holo to understand that.

Saavik had always found her telepathy difficult to control, the result of her nearly unique hybrid biology. Now she finds her telepathy reaching out instinctively for people that are no longer there.

Defences gaping open, the high density of people pouring thoughts in the hospital is nearly overwhelming. Losing track of time in the maelstrom of minds she must accidently send out a telepathic distress cry because the next thing she knows a voice is speaking softly and rhythmically in Vuhlkansu, repeating phrases her frazzled brain cannot process.

Awareness begins to return. A stranger's fingers are resting lightly on her psi points. A gentle presence on the very edges of her mind is blocking the input of others thoughts.

It should feel like a violation. Instead, it feels comforting. Words that before had been incomprehensible become clear.

 _"Are you able to maintain your barriers without assistance?"_

Followed a moment later by:

 _"I grieve with thee."_

A beat.

 _"Are you well?"_

 _"Yes"_ Saavik responds in Vuhlkansu, speaking the language for the first time since it happened.

Her katra aches in sympathy.

The hands move away, the stranger's presence fades. Slowly Saavik centres herself as best she can and opens her eyes.

Crouched down beside her crumpled form in the hospital room is another Vulcan, dressed in Starfleet science department blue, two bands on the sleeves providing his rank.

She does not need to see his face to recognise him, there is only one other Vulcan in Starfleet.

"Commander Spock." Saavik greets quietly.

In her torment she had forgotten all about Commander Spock, caught as he was in the midst of the conflict aboard the Enterprise, and finds herself suddenly immensely grateful that he was there, that he was alive. It was a small miracle considering what she had seen from the holos.

 _"I am sorry for your loss,"_ Spock finally breaks the silence, still kneeling beside her. He does not move to help her as she begins to pull up into a seated position, reluctant to touch her following his immoral intrusion into the privacy of her mind.

 _"As am I, for yours,"_ Saavik responds, finally lifting her gaze from the floor and meeting his eyes.

Saavik's green eyes shimmer with restrained tears, curls of dark hair fall awry, both unusual traits for a Vulcan, but, as Spock was well aware, Saavik was not just Vulcan. Spock's equally unusual parentage had led him to keep track of the younger half-Vulcan since Saavik had joined Starfleet, following in Spock's own footsteps.

He also knew that she was holding back emotional displays on his behalf. But if there is one thing he has learnt over the last few days, it is that you should not try to deny expressions of grief as, inevitably, you will fail.

His mother flashed in his mind, against his will his own eyes began to well up.

Spock also understood that Saavik was raised on Earth. It was the sole difference between them. Saavik was more willing to express her emotions than Vulcans would typically allow, less restrained. The emotional transference from the shallow meld had lowered his own barriers.

It was illogical that he should feel _safer_ with Saavik than with other Vulcans. Perhaps it is because of their shared heritage, perhaps he feels he is safe from judgement with her, to share this moment of grief.

He is tired to holding back. Maybe, as Amanda Grayson would have said, he should not try to.

 _"Do not hold back your grief on my account Saavik,"_ it is permission for both of them, it is a relief.

If the cadet is surprised that he knows her name she does not show it.

Together, hidden away unnoticed, they break under the weight of all that has happened.

A few tears escape her eyes. Distantly he registers the track of his owns tears.

Her head comes to rest on his shoulder.

Silently they mourn.

Then they piece themselves back together, smoothing over the cracks that will never heal, until even they believe their own masks of control.

Saavik wants nothing more than to be out of that room, so she quickly signs herself out after a cursory examination declares her fit.

Standing next to the commander just outside of the doors Saavik is suddenly struck but by the realisation that she does not want to go back to her dorm and face the looks and stares.

Spock notices her hesitation.

"Would it be agreeable if you accompanied me to the Vulcan embassy? A temporary base of operations has been set up there by Ambassador Sarek."

Saavik has no better ideas, and is internally glad that Spock has taken the initiative, so nods her consent and follows the other Vulcan's footsteps.

Spock leads her from the hospital to the Federation Vulcan embassy where many of the surviving Vulcans are residing until a suitable planet to form a colony can be found. A few of the elders are sat in the lobby when they arrive and tilt their heads in greeting. Several seem to be looking upon Spock with a newfound respect but before Saavik can dwell on it Ambassador Sarek spots them.

"Father," Spock greets the revered Vulcan as he approaches.

"Spock," Sarek replies gently, eyes flicking to Saavik. Somehow sensing the need for privacy the elder leads them to a quiet and secluded office. Once inside Spock wastes no time.

"This is Cadet Saavik," Spock says by means of introduction, "she is struggling with her telepathy and I believe she would benefit from the assistance of a mind healer."

Saavik does not dispute Spock's suggestion. Her breakdown earlier had proved as much and, in all honesty, she was probably safer surrounded by full Vulcans with proper telepathic control.

Sarek's gaze seems to penetrate her, after a moment he nods in agreement with his son before turning the same gaze on Spock. To her surprise Sarek falters at whatever he sees hidden there in his son's eyes, gaze softening, before, much to Saavik's shock, he pulls Spock into a brief embrace.

Not willing to intrude upon such a private moment Saavik averts her gaze until she hears the rustle of the pair separating.

Whilst drawing back Sarek rests a hand briefly against Spock's psi points. Whatever is shared between them seems to calm Spock, who relaxes slightly.

 _"I grieve with thee,"_ Sarek murmurs.

Of course, Saavik thinks, Amanda. Amanda who had reached out to her when she applied to Starfleet to offer guidance and support. Amanda who had been her rock and guide. Amanda who hadn't made it off Vulcan alive.

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, any crack in Sarek's exterior vanished and he was once again the epitome of Vulcan stoicism.

It is clear that, at least for Sarek, the moment for grieving had passed. Now to face the difficult times to come.

At Spock's insistence Saavik meets with a mind healer and afterwards has a better handle on her telepathic control. The pain from the broken bonds has faded with the healer's gentle help, the ache of missing minds gently pushed back to allow Saavik to focus on other things.

It will take time to heal, for all of them.

She does not to go to New Vulcan, when the colony is created. The loss of Vulcan had changed her, made her more aware of her role as a representative of Vulcan on Earth, and Terra amongst Vulcans. Saavik is an anomaly, an outliner, a chameleon.

Saavik is not sure that she would fit in amongst just one species of people.

Neither does Commander Spock, who elects to stay with Starfleet and the crew of the Enterprise, his colleagues, friends, lover.

With a smile that would perturb any other Vulcan, Saavik muses that perhaps there is more of Amanda in him than he thinks.

Choosing as Spock had was, after all, what Amanda Grayson would have done.


End file.
